


for all the perfect things i doubt

by minyrrds



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Slow Burn, birthday fic, oiks goes pro, sorry friends, this is just going to be long and angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-08-31 20:43:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8592889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minyrrds/pseuds/minyrrds
Summary: Tokyo is painfully hot in the summertime, humidity wrapping itself around Hajime's exposed skin and making the fabric of his shirt and pressed pants stick to him like cling-wrap. After five minutes of the train being seven minutes away, an overhead voice informs him that the train has been delayed for an unspecified amount of time and the transit authority is very grateful for his patience. He swears internally at his choice to take the train rather than just finding a cab home, especially in this weather.
  He pops a button or two open on his shirt collar and pulls his tie from around his neck. The heat makes his lunch roll in his stomach and all he can think about is the blissful air conditioning that makes his apartment resemble an arctic tundra even in the height of summer. He looks up, just as the overhead system announces that the delayed train had returned to its scheduled pacing and locks eyes with a man standing on the other side of the platform and the nausea becomes something else entirely.
  After five years, Iwaizumi Hajime locks eyes with Oikawa Tooru for the first time.





	1. august (after) / september (before)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [randomananas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomananas/gifts).



> this is a birthday gift to my darling [ananas](http://twitter.com/andrewmyniard.tumblr.com). i decided to post it in bits and pieces and hopefully it'll be done before ur birthday (fingers majorly crossed). it's broken up by months, and they don't necessarily follow each other exactly, but occasionally they do. i'll try to make it clear how far apart they're spaced in each but if that doesn't work i'll start trying to figure out years to go with the months.
> 
> title comes from [james brown's "i'll be good"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=scd-uNNxgrU)

[ _ august, present day _ ]

 

They're on a train platform when it happens. 

Tokyo is painfully hot in the summertime, humidity wrapping itself around Hajime's exposed skin and making the fabric of his shirt and pressed pants stick to him like cling-wrap. After five minutes of the train being seven minutes away, an overhead voice informs him that the train has been delayed for an unspecified amount of time and the transit authority is very grateful for his patience. He swears internally at his choice to take the train rather than just finding a cab home, especially in this weather. 

He pops a button or two open on his shirt collar and pulls his tie from around his neck. The heat makes his lunch roll in his stomach and all he can think about is the blissful air conditioning that makes his apartment resemble an arctic tundra even in the height of summer. He looks up, just as the overhead system announces that the delayed train had returned to its scheduled pacing and locks eyes with a man standing on the other side of the platform and the nausea becomes something else entirely. 

After five years, Iwaizumi Hajime locks eyes with Oikawa Tooru for the first time. 

 

\--

 

[ _ september, seven years prior _ ]

 

“Things are going to be the same, right, Iwa-chan? We’re still going to….” he pauses, looking for a better ending to his question, inhaling, “we’re still going to be friends, right, Iwa-chan?” Tooru’s voice sticks in his throat and comes out tighter than he means for it to. There’s the tell-tale fidgit of his first and second fingers that let Hajime know how truly nervous he is in that moment. Hajime reaches out and grasps the trembling fingers and brings them to his mouth, causing a blush to trickle across Tooru’s skin.

“What makes you think we wouldn’t be, dumbass?” Hajime’s voice is quiet, muted and hot against Tooru’s exposed fingers. It’s a moment of tenderness between them that they don’t usually share. 

The air is crisper now that September is drawing to a close, and there’s something magical about the way the air sits between the two of them, they’re standing on the precipice of something about to happen and neither of them knows what to do other than jump. The drop was clear to them, only a few feet ahead, but the darkness was so all encompassing at the bottom that neither of them knew what was truly waiting for them on the other side. So here they are, biding their time and waiting for that jump, teetering around the possibility of tomorrow. It leaves something heavy and metallic tasting in Hajime’s stomach 

Hajime leans against the railing of the balcony, forearms soaking in the cold from the metal and lets himself just watch the Tokyo skyline for a moment, Tooru’s hands still pressed to his mouth and the air still between them. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance they can stay like this and maybe, just maybe, things will continue on just like they hoped. He can’t look at Tooru, not quite yet, but he can see pieces of themselves in the bright, warm lights of the city around them. The air is just cold enough to brace his lungs when he breathes in, the heat from his skin rolling off from beneath his thin t-shirt, Tooru’s long black sleeves pressed against his palms. The fabric is soft and fraying, the unlucky recipient of one too many nights of Tooru’s anxiety and nervous habits. Hajime lets go of Tooru’s hands when he feels a slight tug on them, and finally turns to really look at Tooru for the first time all night. 

Oikawa Tooru was a sight. Tall and lean with pale collarbones peaking out from the stretched collar of his shirt, he shifts his weight away from the balcony, watching Hajime with worry clear in his dark, bright eyes. The wind has ruffled his hair some, and, in another nervous habit of his, he runs the fingers of both hands through his hair in an attempt to smooth it back before loosely crossing them over his chest. His pale pink lips are chapped to a near white color, and there’s a faded bruise on his right cheekbone from where a stray volleyball clipped him the other day. He’s trying to come off as nonchalant, he really is, but Hajime has known him for too long for any act of his to truly stick. He can practically feel the tension across Tooru’s shoulders as he tries to draw himself up to his full height, only a few centimeters taller than Hajime. He isn’t tapping his shoes, or swaying his weight, which Hajime takes as a good sign, but the discomfort is there, nevertheless. It’s there in the way Tooru tilts his jaw towards Hajime, how his fingers flex and curl at his sides, how his teeth worry an indent into his bottom lip, threatening to crack the skin and draw blood. It’s odd, Hajime thinks, that Tooru would even let this much worry seep through his appearance, to be so plainly visible to Hajime, the one person who he had tried hiding all of this from the most, but in the end it made sense. 

After all, Hajime was the one thing Tooru couldn’t stand to lose the most, and here he was, all but walking away from him. 

“Don’t worry so much, Shittykawa. It’s gonna be fine.” Hajime presses his weight against the bannister, leaning against his left side to fully take in Tooru bathed in the golden city light. Even through their looming ending and present anxieties, Tooru still looked beautiful. The yellow glow lit up his brown eyes and made the strands of flyaway hairs around him giving him an otherworldly glow, the muted color of his shirt letting his skin light up bright and luminescent against the night sky. Not that Hajime needed that to tell him that Tooru was celestial; he knew well enough himself. Tooru had always been too beautiful to touch, just a little too far out of his grasp. His head was hidden in the stars, shimmering reflected in his eyes and the sound of his voice, hushed and excited, when they would stay up as kids, stargazing in their backyards, the secrets of the galaxy muted by the urban lights around them. Hajime had always thought Tooru belonged up there far more than he ever belonged down here, and the stars seemed to agree with him. 

Hajime holds his hand out for Tooru to take, the moment tense between them; they’ve always been in this together, always taken every step along the way of their volleyball adventure together. From the beginning it was always Hajime who Tooru tossed to best, Hajime who he tossed to most, Hajime who he wouldn’t sign to a college team without. Hajime, Hajime, Hajime. Hajime was his rock and his ace and everything, and if he was being completely honest with himself (and he’s not), Tooru doesn’t totally know how he can make it through this without Hajime, but he was about to find out. 

Tooru reaches out and grasps Hajime’s hand, pulling him in close for a hug and pressing every line of their bodies against each other in a desperate attempt to convey all the emotions he pride wouldn’t let him say out loud. Hajime shivers a bit in his grasp and Tooru lets a chuckle escape from his lips. 

“I told you to wear something warmer than just a t-shirt, Iwa-chan!” He clucks his tongue and leans back just enough to see a light blush dust Hajime’s cheeks as he turns his face away from Tooru. 

“Yeah, well, here we are,” Hajime’s voice trails off as he feels Tooru lean in towards him. Steady fingers grasp his jaw and turn his head. 

 

Everything is still for a moment. It’s everything they could ask for. 

For a moment. 


	2. october, part i

[ _ october, part i _ ]

 

The air is brisk enough that when Tooru comes back from his morning jog the sweat across his skin makes him shiver. The apartment is still quiet when he steps in, stripping quickly and slipping into a hot shower to help the chill seep from his bones. His knee has been acting up again, just slightly, a dull throb in the back of his mind at night that causes a tangle of nerves to twist themselves up inside his chest and makes him breathe heavy. He makes it with a few advil and a sleep aid every once in awhile, and only a few panicking breaths in between. 

When he steps out of the shower he can hear the beginnings of the coffee pot gurgling away in the kitchen and knows Hajime is awake, but not entirely functional without the first cup of coffee. Hajime preferred taking his runs while Tooru was at practice, going at an easier pace and through more scenic routes through Tokyo when he could manage it. Tooru steps into what used to be his bedroom but what had lately been more of a storage space as he spent more and more nights in Hajime’s bed rather than his own. He pulls on an old faded green t-shirt with Godzilla printed across the front that he had stolen from Hajime somewhere along the way and a pair of boxers before stepping into the kitchen to find the other quietly pouring out cups for both of them. He’s only been on the team for a few weeks now, but ever since then, the two of them had shifted into an easy routine: Tooru went on runs at an hour that Hajime didn’t deem acceptable to even consider being awake, then came home and showered while Hajime fixed some sort of breakfast for them before going to class, leaving Tooru to nap before practices started for the day. It was familiar and comforting, something that reminded Tooru that he wasn’t going through all of it alone (it was  _ safe _ ). 

“Here,” Hajime’s voice was rough and low in the morning; it sent shivers up Tooru’s spine. He held out what he had dubbed “the creepiest fucking mug in the entire universe, Jesus Shittykawa” to Tooru, ET’s gleaming ceramic face staring right at him. 

A small smile settled on Tooru’s face. 

“Aw, Iwa-chan, always so sweet to me, making me coffee just the way I like it~” Tooru’s voice singsongs through the small space of the kitchen, almost but not quite making Hajime wince. 

“Shut up, Shittykawa, or I wont make you coffee again.” He threatens without much heat, leaning back against the counter and letting his eyes droop shut. Tooru takes the opportunity to set his mug down on the counter and slides up to Hajime before draping himself across Hajime’s chest. There’s a small noise of protest before he mumbles a halfhearted “get off” but Tooru just takes it as an opportunity to further press his face into the crook of Hajime’s neck.

They hadn’t really discussed  _ this _ , whatever it was. They spent nights together, and practically all free time in between their regular obligations. They were always touching somewhere, always reaching to the other, fingers twisting in fabric and the barest of trails of fingers across exposed skin. Neither of them wanted to break the precious bubble they had created between themselves, so they avoided anything that could possibly break it. They exist in a sort of limbo, something awkward and unclear, like opening your eyes underwater: a blurry world in mottled colors, but comforting all the same. 

“Want to skip class and come cuddle me instead?” Tooru murmurs into the space beneath Hajime’s ear, nuzzling into the soft skin there. His fingers had slipped under the hem of Hajime’s worn bedshirt and were now splayed against his hip bones, tracing lazy circles across them. He slips his thumbs under the waistband of Hajime’s boxers, teasing in a gentle way. He can feel Hajime relax against him, a deep breath sinking into his bones and making Tooru blink with the sudden drowsiness that takes over him. 

“Quit it, dumbass, that tickles!” Hajime grumbles, moving to push Tooru off of his shoulder with his chin. Tooru laughs instead and continues to bat his long lashes at the exposed bits of Hajime’s chin, causing a strangled sound of an almost laugh to leave the other boy’s mouth. 

“You asked for it, Shittykawa.”

Tooru could hear the clink of ceramic against counter top and just barely dodged aside in time to avoid an oncoming headlock from Hajime. He wasn’t quick enough, however, to completely slip away, and found himself pinned against the counter being tickled. 

“S-stop, Iwa-ch-han, stop!” Tooru shrieks as he wriggles, attempting to get away from Hajime. He goes for a different tactic instead and wraps his long limbs around Hajime’s middle and starfish his not-quite-boyfriend. 

“Oikawa….” Hajime says, exhaustion creeping into his voice. 

“C’mon Iwa-chan, one morning of missed lecture won’t kill you.” Tooru replies, already knowing he’s won. His hands trail over to Hajime’s wrists and he gives a soft tug before fixing Hajime with a small pout, trying to hide his smugness at winning so easily. 

Hajime grumbles something unintelligible under his breath before letting Tooru tug him to the bedroom, flopping down into the space Tooru provides before tucking his face in the space between Tooru’s neck and shoulder. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Oikawa.” Hajime murmurs just loud enough for Tooru to hear. 

Tooru smiles.

“I know.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> help i have an outline but i am so so so stuck ah hopefully part two will be soon !! hmu on twitter if u wanna yell abt dumb babies

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on [twitter](http://twitter.com/virquo) or [tumblr](http://tooruoikawa.co.vu) to yell


End file.
